


in cruelty, happiness

by shiny_silver_socks



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cloaca, Desert Island Fic, Hand Jobs, Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, M/M, Merpeople, Monsterfucking, Non-Human Genitalia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:55:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26939971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiny_silver_socks/pseuds/shiny_silver_socks
Summary: Someone else is sharing Sykes's desert island prison. Luckily, he seems friendly.
Relationships: Merman/Shipwrecked Sailor, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 3
Kudos: 61
Collections: Canon Ball 2020





	in cruelty, happiness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fair_Feather_Friend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fair_Feather_Friend/gifts).



> For Fair_Feather_Friend: I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Title is shamelessly stolen (and altered) from William Butler Yeat's "The Mermaid":
> 
> _A mermaid found a swimming lad,  
>  Picked him for her own,  
> Pressed her body to his body,  
> Laughed; and plunging down  
> Forgot in cruel happiness  
> That even lovers drown._

On the third morning of his exile on this godforsaken sandspit, Sykes woke up to find three fat fish lying side by side on a palm leaf outside his makeshift shelter. He rubbed his eyes once, then again, trying to see if they were a figment of his starving imagination, but still they sat, gleaming wetly in the early morning sun. He looked around for footprints and found only his own, softened by the night breezes, and a wide, sinuous path that Sykes wasn’t positive hadn’t been there yesterday.

For a moment, he considered tossing the fish back into the ocean, sure they were poisoned, or rotten, or some trick of the mutinous bastards that marooned him here. Then his stomach rumbled and reminded him that since he’d been here, he’d only eaten the meager flesh of a few unripe palm fruits that were more water than meat, and that his crew were leagues away from here, with his ship, his treasure, and no intention of ever coming back. It would be stupid of him to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially when that gift horse was still ocean-cool and so fresh they smelled only of salt.

The mystery of who provided the fish occupied his mind all morning, as he continued to explore the small island that was now his prison. He looked for signs of past human habitation along the path to the freshwater spring hidden away in the central forested area, but found nothing. No longer fatigued from lack of food, he followed a slender game trail through the forest to the opposite coast, hoping to find a cove or a dock, something that sailors could have used. Instead, he found only another treacherously rocky beach, far too dangerous for any larger ships to come close, and no obvious sign of where a skiff or a rowboat could have landed.

As the sun climbed higher into the sky and the heat became unbearable, Sykes retreated back to his shelter to think. Though he was hungry again, it was not the gnawing emptiness that spoke of days without food, which confirmed they hadn’t been some sort of hunger-induced hallucination. His explorations had proved it increasingly unlikely that a ship had arrived without his knowledge, or that a secret village of islanders had taken pity on him. So that left a few options, none terribly likely: another human was living here, but so well hidden that Sykes couldn’t find any sign of them, or someone had come in from the sea to leave him the fish.

For the first time in years, Sykes thought of old Cobb, the bosun on his first ship. Sykes had been barely more than a boy, weedy and thin, sold off by a mother who cared more about her next cup of gin than her son, and the withered old man had taken him under his wing, teaching him the skills that would keep him alive at sea. Along with how to tie a knot and how to read the tides, Cobb told Sykes stories of all the strange monsters that roamed the waters: sea serpents as long as three galleys end-to-end, massive fish that could swallow a ship whole, and creatures with dozens of arms like massive snakes that plucked unwary sailors right off the decks. Cobb’s favorite stories to tell had always been those of the sirens and mermaids, beautiful, otherworldly creatures that were half woman, half fish. Cobb had spent ages talking about the way they used their womanly wiles to seduce lonely sailors to throw themselves overboard, promising pleasures aplenty to any who came to them, but instead wrapped the men with their muscular fish tails and dragged them down to the sea bed to rip them apart with their sharp claws and devour them. “Beware any woman what promises ye that, young Sykes,” he’d said, spittle flying from the gaps in his blackened teeth. “Women are bornt liars, ‘specially them as will spread ‘er legs for some such as us.”

At the time Sykes had nodded solemnly, and promised he’d watch out for the sirens, both human and monster. Even then, he’d known he didn’t find the bosom of a plump bar wench nearly as attractive as the strong lines of a masculine jaw, and so the promise was no hardship. Instead of spending his wages for a tumble with a wharfside doxies like most sailors, Sykes had found his pleasure with like-minded crewmates, and spent his coin on books and maps, intent on captaining his own ship one day. Within a decade, he’d taught himself his letters and numbers and to read sea charts as well as any captain, and learned enough about the sea to know the sirens who so terrified old Cobb were nothing but the fanciful imaginings of drunken sailors.

Now, Sykes considered whether he’d been hasty in dismissing Cobb’s stories. The ocean was vast and deep, and just because every man he knew who’d witnessed a mermaid had been deep in his cups didn’t mean that there weren’t others who’d seen them sober. He looked down at the smooth sand leading away from his shelter, and tried to imagine what sort of creature could have made it. It certainly looked like it could be a half-fish woman, though that left the mystery of why.

The next morning, Sykes woke to find his benefactor had returned, this time leaving him four fish. Despite Sykes having wiped the sane smooth the night before, there was clear sinuous path, and Sykes left the fish alone long enough to follow it back to the ocean. He wasn’t experienced in tracking, having spent most of his life on the wooden decks of ships, but alongside the flat trail were small uneven divots that seemed like they might be hand prints. “Mermaids aren’t real,” he muttered aloud, trying to convince himself. “I’m going crazy.”

The fish were just as fresh as they had been the day before, and he considered his options as he gutted and filleted them. They were still cool and wet, even though the morning sun was already warming the air around him, which meant they hadn’t been sitting out for too long. Perhaps this mermaid—or whatever it was—was coming just before dawn, and if Sykes could wake up before then, he could catch a glimpse of it. Or… Sykes looked up at the vines hanging from the canopy and grinned.

In the greying light of pre-dawn, a strange sound pulled Sykes from his light slumber. He resisted the urge to leap to his feet, and instead slitted his eyes open just enough to see a shape silhouetted against the dimness. It was twisted away from him, focusing on its back half, and Sykes took the opportunity to slowly sit up and study his visitor. It was very obviously humanoid, with broad shoulders and a muscular back, and green skin that reflected the meagre morning light in a way that looked like fish scales. It wasn’t all one shade, either; a darker stripe of green followed the line of its spine, and lighter colored speckles dotted its shoulders and upper arms like the tails of the massive whalefish that patrolled the deep oceans. A ladder of horizontal slits followed the line of its ribs like fish gills, and a thin, flexible fin extended from its elbows, tapering down to nothing at the wrists. Its waist-length hair was not green, but a dull, rusty red, the color and the texture of seaweed, with myriad small braids decorated with sea shells and glittering beads.

As it turned toward Sykes, he was able to see the bottom half of its body, and though he had expected it, he was still somehow surprised to see not legs, but a thick, muscular tail covered in glittering, iridescent green scales that ended in a wide, fan-like fluke. The makeshift snare he’d spent most of the previous day making was wrapped around the upper part of the tail, just above a fin that ran vertically from the mid-thigh to just past the knee-like bend.

Sykes looked up to meet the creature’s eyes, and was shocked to see not a beautiful feminine face but a strange, yet still beautiful masculine one. The merman’s eyes were large, entirely black, and tilted in a way that was not entirely human, while his nose was barely more than a slight bump with a pair of slits for nostrils. His lips were a darker green than its skin, but otherwise very human, and plump in a way that made Sykes imagine seeing them wrapped around his cock—at least until the merman flashed multiple rows of needle-sharp teeth. “Uh, hello,” Sykes offered, dragging his gaze away from the creature’s mouth and to his eyes. “Sorry about that,” he added, sidling closer. “I wanted to thank you for the fish.”

The creature’s mouth relaxed, hiding those teeth, and he tilted his head, considering. Sykes offered a confident smile, wondering if the merman could understand human language. All the stories implied mermaids could, but Sykes knew most of his fellow sailors didn’t need to actually speak to a woman to conclude she wanted to fuck them.

His question was answered after a long moment, as the creature spoke, its voice deep and echoing. “You humans have a strange way of expressing gratitude,” it said, indicating the snare with slender, claw-tipped fingers.

“You kept sneaking away,” Sykes retorted.

The merman blinked, first with a strange, filmy set of vertical eyelids, then again, more normally. “Your kind do not often take kindly to mine. You worry we wish to drown you and eat your corpses.”

Sykes opened his mouth to deny that, but after a second conceded the point with a shrug. “Do you?”

The merman pursed its lips. “Why would we wish to consume you? The ocean is full of much better prey. We prefer fish to land-meat.” The merman glanced down and started picking at the snare in a way Sykes could only classify as nervous. “Our interest is often of a more personal nature.”

Oh. _Oh._ Sykes’s smile widened and he leaned in closer, letting his hand hover just above the merman’s tail. “Is _your_ interest personal?” he asked, pitching his voice low in a way that he knew his lovers often enjoyed.

The merman’s gaze flicked back up to Sykes’s, and even though the alien physiology, he detected a hint of uncertainty. “It is,” the creature admitted. “Your form is very pleasing to me,” he added as the apples of its cheeks flushed a slightly darker green.

Sykes’s grin grew even wider, and he reached up to cup the merman’s face, pulling it closer. “Your form is also pleasing,” he said, keeping his tone low and intimate as he brought their faces close enough to taste the saltiness of the merman’s breath. “I’m called Sykes,” he offered, his lips barely a hair’s breadth away from the merman’s mouth. “What can I call you?”

He let out a tiny, endearing squeak. “Aegon,” he said.

“Aegon,” Sykes repeated, before closing the distance and licking at those beautifully full lips until they opened for him.

Aegon tasted of saltwater as he melted into Sykes’s touch, and Sykes took his time exploring that plush yet dangerous mouth. He traced the edges of Aegon’s sharp teeth, careful not to cut himself, and was surprised at how arousing he found the hint of risk. He buried his hand in Aegon’s wet hair, using the leverage it gave him to bend the boy backward and bear him down into the sand, bracing himself on his other forearm. Aegon went willingly, arching his back up and pressing his muscular tail between Sykes’s legs where his cock was already half-hard. Sykes growled at the sensation and kissed Aegon more forcefully; Aegon seemed to take that as permission, grinding up harder and wrapping the flexible end around one of Sykes’s ankles like a restraint. Sykes yanked on Aegon’s hair, just enough so the boy released his mouth, allowing Sykes roll onto his side in the sand and kiss down Aegon’s neck, one leg still slung over Aegon’s tail.

The boy’s skin was rough, its texture more reminiscent of sharkskin than the scales of a fish, and tasted strongly of mineral salt as Sykes sucked a dark green mark under his jaw. “What do you want, love,” he murmured. “Tell me.”

Aegon practically whimpered at the order, and rubbed his tail more solidly against Sykes’s groin. “Touch me, ah, my vent, please,” he managed, his deep echoing voice breathy with desire as he dug his clawed fingers into the sand below them.

Sykes released Aegon’s hair and let his hand drift southward. Despite the eagerness in Aegon’s voice, he took his time, rubbing and pinching at the boy’s nipples and tracing the horizontal slits at his ribs. Aegon gasped and shuddered violently at the first exploratory touch of his gills, and Sykes groaned as that reaction rubbed Aegon’s tail firmly against the underside of his erection. “Do you like that?” he asked, teasingly sliding a finger along the upper edge of one slit as he looked at Aegon’s blissed out face.

“Yes,” Aegon groaned. “That feels … ah, very good.”

Sykes chuckled and trailed his hand further down Aegon’s body, ignoring the boy’s whine of disappointment as he left the gills alone to move a handspan further down to where his rough skin gave way to the scales of his tail. With a small amount of direction from Aegon, Sykes’s fingers found their way to the area just above the center tail fin, where the skin was indented slightly. As Sykes massaged it, the skin began to give way, relaxing into a slick, smooth opening. Intrigued, Sykes pressed a finger inside, finding the interior wet and almost impossibly tight, as Aegon’s muscles clamped down hard on the intruding digit. Sykes’ cock, already hard, twitched as he imagined plunging it into that hot, slick hole, and he bit his lower lip to contain his groan of pleasure.

Just when he thought he knew what Aegon wanted, the merman’s vent relaxed further, and Sykes watched in mingled confusion and lust as a cock erupted from the opening in a spurt of liquid. It was a darker green than his tail, thick at the base and tapering to thin, blunt end, and slick with some sort of internal lubrication. Aegon let out a low moan as Sykes wrapped his hand around the merman’s cock and gave it a long, slow pull, finding it smooth and almost rubbery, like a dolphin’s skin.

Sykes braced himself on his elbow to get better leverage, and started stroking Aegon’s cock from base to tip, watching Aegon’s strange and beautiful face to see what he liked. The tip was apparently not as sensitive as a human’s, but Aegon writhed deliciously when Sykes played with the base, sliding his fingers into the opening to massage the internal part. After a few minutes, Sykes leaned in and took the thin, fin-like lobe of Aegon’s ear between his teeth, biting down gently as he continued to fondle the interior base of the merman’s cock. Aegon let out a piercing screech and his body shook as his cock twitched and coated Sykes’s hand with thick, greenish seed.

Sykes didn’t even bother to massage Aegon through the aftershocks before he yanked his trousers open and got a slick hand on himself. He leaned in and pressed his face to the curve of Aegon’s neck as he tugged on his cock, showing himself no mercy as he raced toward his orgasm. It hit him like a punch to the gut, and he cursed as his balls drew up close to his body and he spilled onto the side of Aegon’s tail.

As the last waves of his climax receded, Sykes flopped onto his back, utterly spent, surprised to see the sun had already broken free of the horizon. His fist was covered in their mingled seed, and sand had worked its way under the waistband of his trousers and into the crease of his ass. His arm ached a little and his stomach was empty, but he felt better than he had in days, maybe even weeks. Aegon turned over and slung his arm across Sykes’s chest, and Sykes let himself smile as he threaded his fingers through Aegon’s seaweed hair. Maybe getting marooned out here wouldn’t be the death of him after all.


End file.
